


Torture

by youwerefantasticrose



Category: Doctor Who, Roski - Fandom, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youwerefantasticrose/pseuds/youwerefantasticrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've taken him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Torture

She’s running, as fast as she can, her heart pounding in her ears. She doesn’t see anything around her, doesn’t see the wet streets of London flying past her. Just the streak of blood on the floor of his room, the broken lamp and the twisted bedsheets.

They’ve taken him.

She’s there now, swiping her employee card at the door, hands clenching as she pushes it open, the lights flickering in the hallway. She knows he’s here somewhere, not sure how, but she knows.

My fault, my fault, my fault. The words ring in her ears in time with her footfalls as she races down, down, down, into the depths of Torchwood, into the basement where she knows the cells are. Where they keep the dangerous cases.

She thinks about what goes on down there, what she’s seen before, and her pace quickens, hurry, Rose, fucking hurry. She has no idea how long they’ve had him; she’d been out for hours, it could have happened anytime while she was gone, they could have had him for hours. She’s flying now, running so fast her feet barely touch the floor, and she’s scared, so scared.

She finally reaches the bottom, and she’s slamming doors open, empty, empty, empty. Only one left. She tries the handle, and it’s locked. She backs up, and runs at it, kicking it open, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

“Rose, get out of here,” says the agent standing in front of the window into the interrogation room, and she doesn’t even register his face, just tries to look past him, to see what’s happening. She can’t. She steps closer.

“Rose, you need to leave,” he says, stepping between her and the glass. She pulls out her gun, eyes focusing on him now, dark and blazing. His mouth drops, eyes on the gun, hands raising slowly.

“Move out of the way.”

He does. She follows him to the door with the gun, and he leaves, hands still raised over his head.

She goes to the next door, opening it and the agent inside yells, but she doesn’t answer, just fires a shot at the ceiling and then they’re gone.

“Rose.”

She finally looks at him, and it’s all she can do to not lose it then. There’s so much blood, red everywhere, and her knees almost buckle. She gasps for air, but it’s not enough, her chest tight, each heartbeat like a blow. She hurriedly undoes the straps holding him down, her hands shaking, making it take too long, too long. Finally they’re off and he tries to sit up, but he can’t, he falls back, and he’s coughing, red coming from the corners of his mouth. She climbs up onto the table frantically and helps him sit up, holding him against her, his body heavy against hers, but it’s there, he’s there and she’s got him, I’ve got you, Loki, I’m here.

He reaches for her face, his eyes hazy, and she takes in a shuddering breath, her eyes brimming.

“Loki, we’ve got to get help, I have to—” her voice breaks, and the tears are flowing now, burning down her cheeks, her chest constricting as she tries to hold back a sob.

“It’s okay, Rose. It’s okay.” His hand finds hers, and he squeezes it weakly.

“’S all my fault, Loki. I’m so sorry. Please, you can’t go. I—I need you, Loki. I need you here with me.”

He smiles weakly, reaching up and touching her face again, his fingers caressing it gently, and she leans into it, her eyes squeezing shut, and she can’t do this, she can’t, she was just now figuring everything out, and it can’t end like this, not again.

She leans down, pressing her lips to his; their first kiss, and their last. She pulls away, her hand tightening on his, her tears mingling with the blood on his face.

“Rose Tyler,” he whispers, the corners of his mouth going up, and then he’s gone, she sees the light fade from his eyes, and his hand goes limp in hers, and she’s alone now. Alone.

She wakes up with a gasp, her breath coming in short bursts, sobs fighting their way out of her. She looks around, and she’s in her room, in her bed, she was dreaming, it was a dream. She stands up, rushing down the hall, her heart pounding in her chest. She throws open his door, and it hits the wall with a bang. He sits up in the dark, she can see him, he’s there.

“Rose?”

She races toward him, relief flowing through her like electricity, and she throws herself at him, her arms going around him, and it’s awkward positioning; he’s sitting up in bed and she’s on top of him, her legs sticking out, but it’s perfect, he’s here, and he’s warm and he’s real and alive and she’s crying again, you’re here, thank god you’re here.

“You’re here,” she whispers again.

“Of course, Rose. Where else would I—“

She cuts him off, reaching up and pressing her lips to his, her arms tightening around him, and it’s gentle and desperate and rough at the same time, and it’s perfectly them.

She pulls away, and he looks down at her in awe, his hand going to her face, touching it gently.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she says.

He smiles.

“Always.”


End file.
